


Healing Excluded

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Brain Damage, Chess, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reese dreaded going into the hospital that day, but he was going anyways. Because Finch needed him there, he needed to see Reese and talk to him and tell him awkwardly all about his day. John needed it to… needed to remind himself that Harold was recovering… and was still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Excluded

Reese dreaded going into the hospital that day, but he was going anyways. Because Finch needed him there, he needed to see Reese and talk to him and tell him awkwardly all about his day. John needed it to… needed to remind himself that Harold was recovering… and was still alive.

He nodded to the attendant behind the desk, and she glanced at him worriedly. John could feel his control slowly slipping away. Like mud through his fingers, not sand, nor water. _Mud_. Slowly, thickly, dripping from his shaking hands.

John’s alcohol addiction began to flare up with no one to keep him steady, his strong tree in the wind had been cut down, and he was left standing in the harsh breeze, with nothing but the dying leaves in his hands. His beard began to grow in again, ditching the clean cut look for something more… rugged.

He managed to keep his addiction at bay most of the time, limiting himself so he wouldn’t reek of alcohol the next day, thus being barred from the hospital. The tall man went up the elevator, down the hall and stood in front of the same door as always. It always loomed over him, the numbers glaring him in the face before he actually opened the heavy door.

Finch was sitting towards the windows, in the only plush chair they had near the television. But he wasn’t watching the aired shows; instead, Harold was busy staring down at the city. The small, fragile man was so absorbed that he never even noticed Reese entering.

“Morning, Harold.” Reese announced, watching the recluse jump in alarm, then turn to face him with wide eyes, before a small smile perched on his lips.

“John.” He crowed happily, repeating his name until the loyal man came and crouched by his side. “John, today… today I watched people – outside – down there!” Harold shifted his attention back towards the restless city. “Do you… go out?” He was confused as to what he was asking John, but he still garbled the words and stared at the ex-operative with a cutting, familiar gaze.

Rubbing his fingers across his stubble, Reese carefully thought of an answer. It was obvious to see how curious Harold was, almost like his old self was pounding on the walls of his new imprisonment. “I do go outside, Harold. I get coffee everyday near a park.”

“Park.” Harold parroted, mind rooting up any information regarding parks of any sort. “John, do you play games?” He suddenly asked, a flash of … something running across his features until he hugged the teddy bear a little closer. The poor animal was starting to look worn under such constant abuse and poor stitching.

“Games?” Reese questioned, not quite grasping the same straw Harold was.

“Yes.” Harold nodded, then frowned when Reese just stared at him. “Games, with… things.” He waggled his fingers, imagining the image before him as if in some distant, foggy dream.

“What kinds of things, Harold?” Reese gently pressed, wanting to figure out what kind of game they would play at a park.

“Uhm,” Harold paused, narrowed his eyes and then shook his head softly in defeat. “Things like.. horses?” He suggested as a fractal image of a horse and knight piece jogged his memory.

It all clicked now. Chess. Harold was talking about chess. “ _Oh._ ” Reese mumbled, caught off guard. “Yes, I do play that game Harold. It’s called chess. Do you… Do you _remember_ that game?” The operative hesitantly suggested, making sure to stomp out any hope that rose to his throat.

Harold stared at him, then down at his hands, trying to picture the pieces in his grip, or feel the worn wood against his palm. Finally he answered, “No. But I remember horses and Queens.”

The rest of the day went by without any other specific questions, or memories. John simply listened to Harold slowly and thoughtfully spews out random things he’d seen outside the window. A lot of the conversation branched off into birds, and planes.

But throughout the entire two hours of visiting time, Reese kept thinking about chess. And that old man he used to sit next to and talk… they used to play for hours, just the two of them. Maybe he’d drop by again… just for a pleasant little reminder that life, does indeed, go endlessly on.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the 'Healing' series I decided to exclude, it just... didn't fit right in the whole thing. So I'm posting it here if anyone wants to read it! Originally from tumblr. :>  
> Old & Unedited.


End file.
